Boundaries
by Lennox13
Summary: Supernatural AU. Wally and Dick (and the rest of the team), but as various supernatural creatures, living in a world where being different can be very difficult.


It was a beautiful evening as evenings went. Certainly, one of the best Wally had ever seen throughout his long life. The air stirred with a light breeze; the sky was impossibly clear with a bright, nearly full moon shining down upon the calm suburban neighbourhood. Dew had already started to settle, blanketing everything in a soft haze of diamonds. It was picturesque, serene - perfect for his last night on earth.

Hunger was his companion as Wally strolled down another street, lined with quaint red-brick houses. They were old acquaintances, though, and Wally hardly gave it a second thought. The lawns were freshly mowed, and the scent was almost overpowering enough to cover the delectable scents wafting from nearby homes. He could hear the soft murmur of conversation, laughter, television sets and cutlery clinking against plates from unsuspecting families going about their normal routines.

His stomach cramped and only years of practice kept him upright and walking, even though all he wanted to do was curl up in a ball around the fire that threatened to consume his insides. Or better yet, give in, and satiate his hunger. Perhaps calling Hunger an 'acquaintance' was too generous a term.

The soft yellow lights buzzing above porches seemed beacons. Veritable portals to rapture. It would be so easy…

NO!

He was resolute. His mind was made up and for once he was going to take control and keep it. He couldn't take it anymore – the constant push and pull, the endless cycle. He was ready to die.

All his money and earthly possessions had already been donated to various charities. There was nobody left to mourn him or miss him. He had made sure that all of his aliases had been scrubbed clean and the only mention left of one Wallace West would be found in obscure history books on the 17th century. Well, those and the mentions of a 'Rudolph' during the 18th century because wiping out all of the work that he did during that time would certainly raise some questions. Why, without him, Darwin would have no foothold!

But despite the arguably good things that he had accomplished throughout his lives, the bad, the evil, the darkness, far outweighed the light. Wally didn't have the strength to continue his existence, or rather, continue feeding the addiction that his semblance of life revolved around. Come morning, if all went according to plan, he'd be a little pile of dust.

The street ended in a cul-de-sac. Behind the last row of houses, a large park stretched, bordered by the local reserve. Wally's plan was to give back as much as possible and his last act of goodwill, to try and make up for all the sins in his past, was to become part of the compost that sustained the forest. Wheee, he always knew his ultimate destiny was to become worm food.

He followed the footpath that led between two of the houses, his hands tucked deep into the pockets of his hoody and his sneakers crunching over gravel. Rounding a bend, he startled a racoon out of hiding as he meandered along the path. It hissed at him, beady eyes glaring. Wally hissed back, half-heartedly. He couldn't blame animals for not liking him.

It appeared with no warning. It swept over him with the force of a tsunami. The earth swayed beneath his feet or perhaps it was his legs that suddenly became jelly. Wally's eyes became unfocused and he nearly stumbled as his senses homed in on the scent. The deliciously tangy, tantalising smell of blood.

"Fuck," he hissed, as rational thought blurred into the back of his mind. He tried to breathe through his mouth, to push down all his instincts which came screaming to the fore, but he was starving. He hadn't eaten in days.

NO!

Wally clenched his fists and stopped breathing altogether. He had to remain strong. If he could just get to the trees – two seconds to cross the park – he would be fine. But everything inside him protested as the smell lowered all his carefully constructed walls.

His hearing peaked, zoning in on the heartbeats coming from the house to his left. Five of them, four steady and one laboured. The latter was likely the source of the blood because the sheer force of the scent meant some serious blood loss on whoever's part. Easy prey.

He could hear conversation and an incessant banging that jarred his senses. He wanted to hear what was being talked about, but the more dominant part of his mind pulled his focus to the banging. It intrigued him, the pattern. Even in a state of lowered inhibitions, his mind still loved patterns. It was why he had always sought solace in the patterns all around him like math, art, poetry, chemistry, music, and the very insistent banging. The banging was so deliberate and precise.

S.O.S. The one message everyone understood in Morse code.

Wally was torn. He still clung to the vestiges of his sanity, but if he went in there, he would surely lose control. His body teetered on the brink and his mind would be too focused on survival to think about morality. However, someone clearly needed help and by all the gods, he wanted desperately to atone for his past.

His fingernails cut into his palms, the pain momentarily making him feel so sublimely human. Yes, that's what any good human would do. They would investigate, they would help. He breathed in the intoxicating air, his pupils dilating to pinpricks and stalked towards the back door.

It took only a fraction of his strength to break the lock, which was lucky since, in his starved state, Wally was running at about 10% of his full power. Four of the heartbeats came from the kitchen. Sour beer and the stale smell of unwashed humans made Wally gag slightly as he neared their locations. Underneath it all, the house smelled of iron, both from the blood and the various weapons strewn haphazardly around. Whoever lived in this house had other priorities because cleaning certainly wasn't one of them. The perfectionist in him wanted to put on a pile of washing pronto.

Three voices were having a heated argument, debating whether waiting was the right thing to do. _Waiting for what?_ Wally wondered and filed the thought away, instead focusing on the fifth heartbeat coming from beneath his feet. Ah, basements. Never bode well, do they?

With a burst of speed, Wally snuck past the kitchen – two Caucasian males, a black woman and another man of Asiatic origins – and approached the door next to the stairs. It was reinforced and looked much newer than the rest of the house.

Dried blood was caked around the doorknob and it flaked off at Wally's touch. As quick as he could, he opened the door. The hinges protested because of the door's sizable weight but the arguing continued in the kitchen. The basement was dark and the stairs leading down were half rotten. For fear that they would creak, Wally cleared the staircase with one graceful leap, landing lightly at the bottom. More dried blood stained the cement floor. There were no lights in the basement but the glow emanating from the open door was more than enough for Wally to get a clear picture of the situation. And it was horrifying.

Even his hunger quieted at the cruelty displayed before him. A small child lay curled up within a cage which was barely large enough to host all of the boy. Blood pooled underneath him, seeping sluggishly from open wounds on his legs and arms. Burn marks lined his limbs as well. They were angry-looking, raised welts, recently inflicted.

Unbidden, Wally's fangs descended. But he was not at all tempted by the boy's blood which saturated the air and glittered darkly in the minimal light. Oh no, his palate had something else in mind – vengeance.

Before he could rush upstairs and rip the throats from the vile humans, a small, pale hand lifted away from the bundle. The hand clutched a rock and slowly, as if it took infinite strength and concentration, the rock was banged against the metal bars. S.O.S. Slow, ragged breathing came from the bundle, and the heartbeat slowed even more.

Wally swore under his breath. Vengeance would have to wait. The boy needed help an hour ago. It was a miracle that he was still alive. He took a precious second to calm himself, not wanting to scare the kid with the sight of his inhumanly sharp incisors. Then he rushed over to the cage, crushed the padlock in his hand and pulled the door open. He reached to pull the boy out, but as soon as his hand brushed against the child's skin, the kid's eyes flew open.

Yellow orbs glared at him with absolute hatred. With speed rivalling his own, the boy scooted back, only to give out a small cry as he made contact with the back of the cage. Smoke hissed from where skin touched the metal of the cage. But instead of recoiling from the obvious pain, the boy stayed there rather than getting any closer to Wally.

"Shit, kid," Wally whispered and winced. He shouldn't be swearing in front of young kids, even if the said kid was apparently a werewolf being held captive by hunters. _Waiting? _he recalled the earlier conversation from upstairs. Likely they had been debating whether to kill the boy now or wait for later. Whole werewolf skins did fetch a pretty penny after all.

"I want to help you. I promise I won't hurt you," he soothed, trying to sound sincere even as panicked welled at the back of his mind. It had gone dreadfully quiet upstairs. But the boy wasn't buying it and wasn't budging either. Wally could smell the acrid scent of burning flesh.

"Please," he begged, holding out his hand. "I'll get you away from here."

"Who left the door open?" A voice boomed from the basement's entrance.

Wally's head swivelled to the sound and back to the boy. Desperate, he let slip some of his control, feeling his fangs elongate once more. He grinned, baring them at the boy. "See? I'm like you. I want to help you, but we need to get out of here now."

The boy's gaze latched onto the sight of his fangs, before looking up into Wally's eyes. Something within those yellow orbs shifted. It was slight but if Wally had to wager, the boy had decided that his fate could not be worse off with Wally than with the men. Wally could clearly read the paranoia and fear and anger seated within the appraising look but there was also the desperate tinge of hope. The boy's eyes were way too knowledgeable for one his age and that made Wally angry all over again.

Heavy boots stomped down the stairs. Wally's hand was still outstretched, and he nearly jumped when the boy's hot, clammy hand clutched his own. "Let's go." Not waiting a moment longer, Wally pulled the boy out of the cage, picked him up and clutched him to his chest, ignoring the stabs of pain as the boy's claws popped out in surprise and ripped into his shoulder.

"Wait! Stop!" The man who had come downstairs had a flashlight and a gun trained on them. "You don't understand! That thing's a killer!"

Wally chuckled to himself at the irony of it all and flashed his fangs at the man, who jumped back with q yelp. With a rush of air, Wally dodged past the man, jumped over the stairs and ran from the house as fast as he was able. He heard gunshots echo behind him, but his mind was firmly focused on getting to the relative safety of the beckoning forest.

Once within the tree cover, Wally released his death grip on the child and placed him on the ground. Wally's hoody was bloody and torn, but he quickly wrapped it around the very naked boy. Underneath the heavy moon and away from the poisonous silver, the worst of the child's wounds were already starting to knit themselves closed. The burn marks would likely never fade since they were made by silver, but the cuts leaking life-sustaining blood were the danger. Wally thought it a wonder that there was still blood left within the boy. When he woke up, the child would likely be ravenous what with his body having to work overtime healing and keeping him alive.

Speaking of food, Wally could hear the thunderous clamour of the four humans rushing towards their location. Wonderful, he thought with a wry smile, it seemed like dinner delivered itself.

* * *

**I love Young Justice and Wally in particular, but I am feeling very uninspired lately, so feel free to PM me any prompts or leave them in reviews. Thanks for reading. **

If this gets an okay response and people are interested, my plan is to take this into a complete AU based loosely on the tv series Being Human where a vampire, werewolf and a ghost live together. Thanks for reading!


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